a beautiful feeling
by spookyshai
Summary: Karen meets an incredibly nice blind guy on the sidewalk while on her way home from the most ill-timed breakup of her life. A fake-relationship-for-the-holidays-AU gift fic written for Karedevil Squad Secret Santa 2018. Warning for terminal levels of fluff.


She felt numb. The words weren't processing.

"Um – okay. Just hang on. Sorry." Why was she apologizing? "Just start over, okay, please?"

"Karen," Danny repeated, with painful slowness. His tone was stiff, unhappy. "I'm sorry, but I feel like I made myself clear. I'm going back to the UK, and I don't think long-distance is going to work for us. It sucks, it really does, and it's my fault for not bringing up this conversation sooner, but I think we need to be over." Since when did Danny say things _sucked_, she wondered idly. Did he spontaneously regress to age seventeen?

"You didn't even _ask_ if I wanted to come with you," Karen noted, staring at him dully. "Did you plan it like this? So you wouldn't have to just admit you don't care about me anymore?"

Danny's eyes flashed at this. "Karen, don't you _dare_ say that. Of course I still care about you."

"Right. You're right, that was unfair. I'm sorry," she backtracked, glancing away, only half-believing her own automatic words. His actions certainly didn't seem like those of someone who cared about her, but she'd have to keep that to herself if she wanted to stop this from becoming any worse than it already was. "This just is… really sudden. You know, here I was thinking – " She cut herself off before she finished with something trite and disgusting like _you were the one_, because he wasn't, and there was no point in letting him hear just how in love with him she'd been. She would never have thought him capable of pulling something as cold as this. "Uh, it just seemed like things were going well. I don't understand why – why you didn't talk to me about this." Humiliatingly, her voice cracked on the last syllable. She did her best to pretend it hadn't.

"They were," he admitted. "And I should've. But I've realized that what I want isn't here, Karen. I need to go home, I need to reconnect with people. I feel like I can't do that if I'm still thinking about you." His expression was like a caricature of contrition. Too exaggerated, too handsome and cow-eyed and teary to be really sorry. In retrospect, all her memories of him were starting to look that way. Was it stupid that part of her still didn't care?

For a few moments, she stared at him, trying to discern if there was any way she could have seen this coming. It seemed so utterly asinine and yet so fitting, that the first man she'd allowed herself to fall in love with since the life-destroying disaster that had been Todd would just suddenly decide to leave her.

"Okay," Karen said finally, smoothing her expression over as much as she was able and taking a steadying breath. "I guess this is goodbye, then." She extended a hand, trying to keep things as civil as she possibly could. _I'm an adult, goddammit. I can handle this like an adult, even if he hasn't._

His pained, concerned little frown deepened. "Oh – don't be like that, love. It's not like we can never see each other again. I don't want us to be strangers."

It was his tone that did it, the mild, gentle condescension of a parent speaking to an overreacting child. _That_ was over the damn line. She snatched back her hand as if burned and drew herself up.

"I don't remember asking what you wanted," she clipped, staring into his surprised face without blinking. "You're really going to break up with me a week before Christmas, when you _knew_ I was going to take you back to Vermont to meet my family, when you _knew_ what that meant, and then say you still want to be friends? _Fuck_ you." Her voice was wintry. "You can fly back to England tonight for all I care. I never want to hear from you again."

She didn't remember afterward what he said in response. Fifteen minutes later she was almost home from his apartment, walking by herself against the icy New York wind, tears blurring her vision. She'd expected him to ask her to move in. She'd asked him to come and meet her family. It was going to be the first time she'd come home since Kevin almost died in the car accident and Dad had asked her to leave, even though he hadn't been able to tell her how he was going to pay for Kevin's hospital bills. When she'd called, all she got was a terse answer that they were managing and that she didn't need to come home. Dad was probably up to his eyeballs in debt, and all she wanted was to be allowed to come home and help. Danny was _supposed_ to be her ticket – smart, sophisticated, nice guy, _together_ guy, who she could show to her dad to prove that she really had changed, she was a grown-up now, she was responsible. She would be good, and she wouldn't even think of letting anything like what happened with Todd and Kevin happen again.

But she'd miscalculated.

Karen was so lost in thought as she marched down the sidewalk that it took her a moment to realize that she wasn't alone. There was a man coming down the sidewalk opposite her. Her first urge was to reach into her purse for her mace, just for conscientiousness' sake, but immediately afterward she heard the steady _tap-tap-tap_ of a cane and saw the glare of the streetlights reflect off a pair of dark glasses. He was blind.

Absurdly concerned that she would somehow get in his way, Karen stood to the side of the sidewalk to let him pass: he wouldn't even know she was there. But as he drew near to her he paused, head tilting in her direction.

"You okay?" the guy asked suddenly, his voice quiet. Karen started.

"Uh – um, yeah," she replied quickly, embarrassed. "Yeah, thanks." But there was a slight tremor in her voice that he apparently heard, because he didn't keep walking.

"I heard you sniffling," he went on conversationally. "Thought it could be a cold, but I just wanted to make sure." He smiled at her, and Karen realized abruptly that he was good-looking. _Really_ good-looking. Wow.

"Yeah, those balmy New York breezes, you know," she joked weakly. The wind had died down some since she'd started walking, but he nodded in agreement anyway, apparently satisfied, and lifted his cane like he was going to keep walking. Without really meaning to, she blurted, "My boyfriend broke up with me."

His smile vanished and the cane fell back down. "I'm sorry to hear that." Then, after a moment. "So you were crying." His tone implied he'd suspected she wasn't telling the truth, but had been too polite to push it.

Karen scoffed out a laugh, then stopped herself before it turned into a sob. "Yeah." She shook herself. "I'm sorry, I'm probably keeping you from somewhere, and it's really goddamn cold. Um, thanks for asking if I was okay."

"It's no trouble," said the blind guy gently, and then hesitated. "Hey, uh… if you need someone to talk to, I've got some time. I was working late, and I was just gonna go home and eat dinner by myself." A shade of that heart-meltingly beautiful smile came back, and Karen had to stop herself from instantly saying yes.

"I wouldn't want to be an inconvenience," she reiterated, shaking her head before realizing belatedly that he couldn't see it. "You don't even know me." _And I don't know you_, the wary thought popped into her brain, although something about this guy told her he wouldn't hurt her even if she thought that he could. Physically, anyway, she amended wryly.

"No, really, I – I don't mind," he replied. "Honestly, I would love the company. If that's all right with you, of course. I know it's random, and kind of late, so…"

"No, that would be great," Karen interjected hastily. "I'd love that. Um, your place or mine?" After an instant of silence, she covered her face and laughed. "Oh my god. I'm sorry."

He laughed with her. "No, I know what you meant. How far away are you?"

"Like two minutes? My, uh, my ex's apartment is kind of far away, but I just wanted to walk." She huddled deeper into her coat, trying to avoid the biting wind.

"Yeah, that sounds fine." He paused. "I just realized I never asked you your name. I'm Matt, by the way." He extended a hand. "Matt Murdock."

"Karen Page," she said with a smile, taking the offered hand and giving it a firm shake. "It's really nice to meet you."

She told herself it was because his hand was so unexpectedly warm that she found herself not wanting to let go.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Thirty minutes later the two of them were in her apartment, talking over hastily thrown-together spaghetti with meat sauce and some wine (abominably cheap, and although Matt swore up and down he couldn't tell the difference, she had a sneaking suspicion he was some sort of secret sommelier who could pick a $5 wine from a $50 one just by sitting in the same room with the open bottles). The conversation had started off with some fairly basic introductions and then gone into their backgrounds – blinded by freak accident, grew up in a small town, law school, secretary, boxer dad, dead mom – before turning onto the topic of Danny and the breakup, and then onto her fucked-up family. She skirted around most of the details of Kevin's accident, but to be honest she had shocked herself by even telling him that it had happened at all. Matt was bizarrely easy to talk to.

Right now, however, he was giving her all the reaction of a brick wall. Karen swirled her wine around in her glass, more for something to do than because she really thought it would improve the taste.

"Did I say something wrong?" she said finally, a little flatly. She didn't want to just assume that this burgeoning non-relationship was going to go down in flames after an hour of clicking perfectly and sharing things she had never had the courage to tell most of her friends, let alone a random acquaintance she'd made on a sidewalk, but she didn't exactly have the best track record when it came to things like this.

Matt stirred, picking up his fork and poking around in his second helping of spaghetti. "No. It's just – this accident happened, with your brother. And your father just… threw you out?" His expression was impossible to read behind his round glasses.

"It was my fault," Karen said simply. "Honestly, I'm not even sure I blame him. I just hoped that coming home with somebody like Danny would show him that I was ready to… I don't know. Get it together. Not be a terrible daughter." She pressed her lips together. "I don't know what I was thinking."

Matt was silent another long moment. "What if you did?"

Karen glanced at him sharply. "What?"

Slowly, Matt reached up and pulled off his glasses. His eyes were a warm brown, and tracking close to her face, although he couldn't focus on it. "What if you did come home with a guy? But… another guy. If it lets you reconnect with your family and help your brother, I could…" He frowned slightly, faltering. "Maybe that's stupid. I don't know. I'm sorry."

Karen's mouth had fallen open as he was speaking, and she had to force herself to respond before he talked himself out of it. "Oh – wait, no, that's not stupid. Hang on." Her mind was racing. "Oh, my god, are you serious? I can't believe you would do that for me. Do you mean it?" Her voice sounded breathless to her own ears.

He smiled slowly, brilliantly. "Well, yeah. It's not like I've got any folks to spend the holiday with. I mean, I've got my best friend and his family, but he was gonna bring his girlfriend with him this year and I sort of didn't want to intrude, and to be honest I was thinking about spending it alone. Which would be pretty pathetic," he admitted.

"Oh, my god. Are you really sure? You're willing to come home with me and pretend to be my boyfriend for two days?" It seemed so unbelievable she felt like she had to ask again. "Seriously?"

His smile flickered a little, but then returned. "Absolutely."

"But we _just_ met." A note of suspicion entered her voice as this fact reiterated itself to her. "I mean, we've been getting along great, and I've had a really nice time talking, but you don't know me at all. I could have been lying this whole time." The flip side of that was that he could've been as well, of course. She wanted so badly to believe that none of this was some sort of prank or trick, that he really was just that much of a good Samaritan. But Karen had grown cynical since her mom's death, and more so since her dad had kicked her out. It just seemed too easy.

The expression on Matt's face had turned unreadable again. "It is weird," he admitted at last. "I know it's weird. But I really want to help you." He shifted in his seat. "I just have this feeling that you're a really good person… who a lot of really bad things have happened to." He fell silent.

Karen felt almost sick. No, he really was a good Samaritan. She just didn't deserve one; but at the same time, she knew she was too selfish to turn him away and reject his help.

"Okay," she said, hating how small and vulnerable her voice sounded. "Please come with me. I'd really appreciate it."

Matt smiled at her again, and she couldn't help smiling back. "Sure," he said.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Six days later, the two of them were driving down the I-87 North on the four-hour drive to Fagan Corners, Vermont. Karen had called her dad to let him know when she was coming, but he had hung up before she'd gotten the chance to ask to talk to Kevin. Matt and Karen had exchanged numbers and worked out travel plans on Thursday before setting out. She'd picked him up along with his sparse luggage at his apartment at two p.m., and the plan was to be at her home by dinnertime.

Karen realized after about an hour that the drive had been almost completely silent thus far. She was so tense and anxious about coming home and seeing her father and Kevin and so focused on driving that she'd almost forgotten Matt was there.

"So, um," she began awkwardly, "we'd better figure out how we're going to do this. The, uh, fake boyfriend thing, I mean." God, were those words really coming out of her mouth? _Fake boyfriend_. But it was worth it, no matter how strange it felt, if she would be allowed to help Kevin. They'd skated around having the discussion over the past few days, but if this was going to be believable at all they had to talk about it sooner or later. It was now most definitely later, and Karen was kicking herself for putting it off so long.

"Yeah," Matt said. "I was wondering when that was going to come up. I can improvise pretty well in a pinch, but it makes it harder that we're going to be trying to fool your family." That made her wonder a little what he meant, what sort of _improvising_ he was used to doing, but given that he was a lawyer she supposed it made a kind of sense.

"Maybe not as hard as you'd think," she hedged. "It's been a while since I've been home, and my dad and I have been pretty thoroughly estranged for longer than that. It's Kevin you probably want to watch out for. He was always too observant for his own good." _Not to mention nosy_, she added mentally. The thought was accompanied by a familiar wave of guilt. If the accident had been his fault for being nosy, it had been her fault ten times over for getting herself into trouble that he'd felt he needed to help her out of. Twenty times over for not getting herself out of it without his misguided help. And so on, and so on, ad nauseam.

"Okay," Matt responded. "Well, what sort of thing do you think he would catch?"

"Probably little things, stuff that he would know from when we were kids. Not knowing my favorite color, or the music I like. And I'm sure he'd notice if I didn't know those answers for you, too." After a moment she paused. "Oh. Um – did you have a favorite color? When you could, uh – ?"

"I always liked red," he interrupted lightly, fiddling with his glasses. Which were tinted red. Karen flushed a little, glad he couldn't see her face.

"I liked the weird colors when I was a kid. You know, ugly highlighter yellow, burnt umber, blood orange. Whatever had a funky name on the crayon." She couldn't help smiling a little. "Kevin used to steal crayons from school and bring them home, and I'd always pull out the one with the funniest name before I told Mom on him."

"Why'd he steal the crayons?" Matt inquired, sounding interested.

"Oh, I don't know. Attention, I guess. Back then I was still the golden child, and I think he felt sort of ignored." Her hands tightened on the steering wheel. "That was before Mom's diagnosis."

Then had come the long struggle of doctor's visits, chemotherapy, and Karen having to take over Mom's role over the next several years, in the diner and in the house. And up until she was an invalid on her deathbed, Penelope had never stopped buying those stupid lottery tickets. She couldn't give up hope that she could get out of Fagan Corners. Now Karen was desperately trying to come back.

"After my dad died, I was placed in a Catholic orphanage," Matt said, and Karen glanced at him. His face was turned away from her. "I was a pretty pissed off kid a lot of the time, as you can probably imagine. I couldn't really get into fights, so sometimes I'd snatch stuff from other kids when I was mad at them. Or from the nuns. One time I, uh, stole Father Lantom's reading glasses." He sounded like he was smiling. "Thought I'd really pulled one over on him, you know. I figured I'd stopped him reading Scripture. But he had another pair in his desk, and he just kept going like nothing happened. I'm positive he knew it was me, but… for some reason I didn't get a lecture out of that one." His voice was fond, and Karen found herself smiling too.

"So, are you religious, then?" she prodded.

"Still go to confession once in a while," Matt said. "I don't really attend Mass anymore, though."

"Neither does my dad. As far as I know, anyway. I'm not really, uh…"

There was a period of slightly awkward silence as Karen searched her brain for another topic. A question came to her mind that seemed a bit gauche to ask, but they were pretending to be in a relationship, after all. Might as well bring it up.

"Were you really going to spend Christmas all by yourself?" she asked quietly. "I mean, you really don't have anybody you can be with?"

Matt stiffened unhappily. "Well, I don't have a family, and I haven't had the time to make new friends since college." His voice had chilled a little. Karen hoped she hadn't offended him too badly.

"Right. I'm sorry. It's just… hard to believe. You know, you seem so, like… is it weird to say perfect?" She let out an uncomfortable little laugh, trying to defuse the tension. It was a thoughtless comment, but on some level she realized she genuinely meant it. Matt was kind, funny, ridiculously handsome, and obviously intelligent. The only thing left to make him better would be if he were some kind of superhero.

"Oh, trying to flatter your way into my good graces, are you?" Matt sniped, readily leaving the sensitive topic behind. "I should've known you were the type, Miss Page."

"I'm Miss Page now?" Karen grinned at him, a little surprised by the feeling of relief that flooded through her at his smile. "Does that mean I can introduce you to my family as Mr. Murdock, Esquire?"

"Try it and see," he shot back dryly, and she laughed again.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Matt wasn't sure what had possessed him at the time, but he was starting to think that following this woman home for Christmas might have been the best decision of his life. They had spent the last two and a half hours talking and joking with each other as if they'd known each other for years, with only a couple of minor hiccups in the conversation. He could almost have forgotten that their relationship was supposed to be fake.

That thought sobered him. He'd offered to come back to Vermont with her under the mutual, tacit condition that their burgeoning friendship would take a backseat to the pretend romance that she hoped would convince her father to let her come home. But now that the trip was actually happening and he was getting a chance to genuinely talk to her some more, he was starting to wonder if there was something more to the real connection between them. Spending time with her was so easy and so bizarrely comforting that he knew it would be simple to pretend that he was in love with her, but he worried that designating the relationship as 'fake' from the start might end a real one before it even began.

But why was he so upset by that idea? Obviously Karen was an amazing woman and anybody would be lucky to have her as a romantic partner, but it wasn't as though there weren't other beautiful and intelligent women out there. And, he insisted to himself stubbornly, it wasn't even as though he necessarily needed a woman in his life. Elektra had taught him that love didn't always conquer all, that there were more important things than romance. Matt had been dedicating himself to those things for years now. It didn't make any sense to be losing his mind over someone he'd met _last week_. If Foggy knew about this he'd laugh himself sick.

Well, laugh himself sick and then tell Matt it was fine and just to be honest about how he felt. That wasn't going to happen. At least not yet.

"How far away are we?" Matt asked, to distract himself. "It seems like we've been off the interstate for a while now."

"Yeah," Karen replied. "We're maybe another five, ten minutes out. You doing okay?" Matt nodded, enjoying the sound of her voice. She had one of those pleasant radio voices that could have read off the phone book and still been wonderful to listen to.

"Before we get there, is there anything else I should know about, uh, about you? Or your family?" He didn't really expect her to drop any bombshells on him in the last ten minutes of the drive, but if the conversation stopped he'd have to keep thinking about the fact that he was maybe falling in love with a woman he'd just met, and that was out of the question.

Karen was conspicuously silent, though. It took her a long several minutes before she finally responded. "No."

Matt was instantly on alert. There was something she wasn't saying, but for whatever reason she wasn't willing or able to talk about it yet. He doubted it was something dangerous, like her father being abusive or anything like that, but clearly it was something very painful and very personal to Karen. Without really thinking about it, he found himself reaching out to touch her arm.

"Karen," he said as gently as he could, "listen, if you need to – "

"We're here," she interrupted blandly, and indeed he noted that the car was no longer running. She must have pulled into the driveway and parked without him realizing it. Matt wordlessly unfolded his cane, exited the car and navigated his way around the back to help her with the bags.

Whatever it was would have to wait.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Nobody was waiting for them outside the house. Karen wasn't even positive anyone would be home, although she'd called ahead. When she'd still lived here, the diner would still have been open by this time.

Almost vibrating with nervous energy, Karen hefted her bag and rapped quickly on the door. _One-two-three._

There was a short, horrible moment where she suddenly wondered if nobody really was home, and if it was supposed to be some kind of message. True, her father had never been the passive-aggressive type, preferring to bluntly state his problems with her to her face whenever he'd had them. But maybe he just didn't want to see her _that_ much. Maybe he meant this as a final, "go away forever" sort of thing. On Christmas Eve. Well, that would be pretty brutal even for Paxton Page, but she suddenly wasn't so sure she'd put it past him.

"Karen," Matt's voice startled her out of her spiraling thoughts, accompanied by a squeeze of her elbow. "Relax. You're fine."

She glanced at him. "How did you know I was – ?"

The door opened, and suddenly she was seeing a face she hadn't seen in what felt like decades.

"Karen!" Kevin was smiling widely, and Karen didn't know what stunned her more – that he was really there, or that he looked genuinely happy to see her. He looked exactly the same as always to her, although in the back of her mind she knew he would still have scars from the accident and from his multiple surgeries. Sensitive dark eyes, thick bushman eyebrows, stupid hair. "Oh my god, Kare, you look great! It's so good to see you." He reached out the door to wrap her up in a hug, and she felt tears start to sting her eyes.

"Hey, Kevin," she whispered. "I missed you." He hugged her tighter, and he smelled like coffee and bacon grease and his horrible deodorant brand and _home_, and Karen never wanted it to end. After a little while, however, Kevin shifted and withdrew, looking a little surprised. Karen followed his gaze and cleared her throat awkwardly, embarrassed to have forgotten the person who had come here just to help her.

"Oh. Um, Kev, this is my boyfriend Matt. I said I was gonna be bringing somebody for Christmas, and, uh, this is him." She smiled in Matt's direction.

"Hi, there," Matt volunteered with his own friendly smile, sticking out his hand. Kevin took it a little gingerly.

"Wow," said her brother in a tone of mostly-polite interest, "nice suit, man. Are you like, a lawyer or something?"

"Or something, yeah," Matt replied with a laugh. "Thanks. It's nice to meet you."

The three of them stood in amiable silence for another moment before Kevin broke it to hastily grab half their bags and invite them inside. Karen looked around, wondering if she should be surprised at all that the house looked exactly like it always had. Baseboards coming off the walls, paint chipping, carpeting spotty with years-old stains that nobody had ever bothered to get shampooed out. It was sort of comforting, but it also made Karen a little angry remembering whose decision it all was.

"Where's Dad?" she asked as Kevin trundled the bags off to their room. _Room, singular. Shit_. They'd forgotten to go over that during the drive. She put the thought out of her mind for the moment, resolving to bring it up with Matt once they got some alone time.

"Uh, he's closing up the diner. He should be home in a few." Kevin was clearly trying hard to avoid sounding tense about that, but Karen knew him too well to be fooled. Dad wasn't happy she was here, apparently. Not exactly a shock. Matt seemed to sense her distress with his weird alien blind-man powers, though, and gave her arm another squeeze. Deciding that there was nothing wrong with taking advantage of their temporary façade, Karen took the opportunity to rest her head on his shoulder.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

It was more like an hour or so before Paxton showed up back at the house. As soon as he saw Karen he took on an expression that looked like he would rather have spent the night at the diner, but he greeted her anyway and gave Matt a perfunctory hello before disappearing into the kitchen.

Dinner was quiet and uncomfortable, with most of the conversation being courageously encouraged by Matt. Despite the unresolved tension amongst the family, Paxton and Kevin had clearly taken some liking to him on the basis of his easy charm and sense of humor, which was some comfort to Karen as she sat picking at her risotto. When Kevin started clearing plates, she straightened and looked her father in the eye.

"Dad," she said evenly, "I have a job now, in the city. I'm a secretary. I make a decent amount of money. I know you're probably in debt by now, and I want to help out with the finances." Matt found her hand under the table, and she gratefully squeezed it. "I just want to help. _Please_ let me help."

"A secretary?" Dad said flatly. "What kind of a secretary makes a decent amount of money, Karen? I wasn't born yesterday."

Okay, fine, that was true, but she had enough saved that she could _help_, goddammit. "Dad. Please."

"Karen," he snapped, "you've done enough. You're the reason we don't have any money in the first place. I don't want to hear about this again."

"But Dad – "

"Your stupidity, and your drug-pushing deadbeat boyfriend, almost got your brother killed. He didn't need your help then, and he doesn't need it now." His eyes fell on Matt. "You tell him about this, or were you just letting him think you were Little Miss Perfect? Well, she's not."

"Mr. Page," Matt cut in mildly. "It doesn't matter what Karen's done in the past. Right now, she wants to help. Are you going to deny that your family's in financial trouble?"

"How the hell would you know?" Paxton demanded, seemingly cooling on Matt in the space of a few seconds.

"Dinner was well-prepared, but it came out of a can," Matt stated. "Your house is settling, judging by the slant in your floor, and there's a draft in the living room. I would guess you hadn't noticed because you don't usually heat the house in winter." He paused. "Do I need to continue?"

Paxton slammed his hands down on the table and stormed out without replying. Karen sighed, long and slow. "Sorry," she murmured to Matt. "He wasn't always like this."

"You don't need to apologize to me," Matt said. "I'm here to help you, not the other way around." But she still felt weirdly guilty and uncomfortable, like her dad really had just snapped at a guy she was dating seriously and had been hoping would get on well with everyone. The situation really wasn't all that different, she realized abruptly. She _did_ like Matt, and she had been hoping that her family would like him, almost as much as she'd been hoping for some reconciliation with her dad.

"Thank you," she whispered. An instant later Kevin came back in the room, obviously having heard the whole spat between Paxton and Karen.

"Listen, Kare," he said seriously, "I know Dad won't say it, but he's glad to see you. I'm gonna talk to him and see if I can't turn him around on the money thing." He paused. "I know you're probably also not doing as well as you want to seem like you are, but we really could use the help. He knows that, he's just being Dad. Try him tomorrow, okay?"

Karen hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah, okay. Thanks, Kevin."

With a quick smile, he vanished back into the kitchen.

"I should probably help him clean up," Karen realized, and stood up. Matt squeezed her hand one more time and then let go.

"I'll, uh, go wander around for a bit. Maybe I can work on your dad a little, too."

"You're the best," she told him, and on impulse kissed him on the cheek. He smiled.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Matt did not wander around. He'd known immediately when Paxton had left the room that he wasn't going to stay in the house, and so when Karen got up to help Kevin clean the dishes he went off in the direction of what he assumed was the garage.

Karen's father was silently working on his car, and he slid out from under it as soon as he heard Matt enter.

"How'd you know I was here?" the man inquired gruffly. "Aren't you s'posed to be blind?"

Matt folded up his cane. "I heard you," he said. "Listen, can I talk to you for a second?"

Paxton didn't say anything, but also didn't make any move to leave, which Matt took as close enough to a yes.

"Karen loves her brother. She makes enough money that she's able to help you out at least some. There's no rational reason why you should be refusing her help, Mr. Page."

Paxton gave a long-suffering sigh. "My son and I are doing fine. Karen always feels like she has to help, but when she's helping people she never bothers to look after herself. It's better for everyone if we just let things be."

Matt frowned a little. "So the whole business with Kevin's medical bills being her fault, that was an act?" It really hadn't sounded like it.

"No," Paxton responded. "It was her fault. And part of me will probably always be angry with her for that, seeing as Kevin could've died."

"But you're more concerned that if she starts helping you financially…?"

"Look, Matt, I don't know you, but it seems like you care about my daughter. Seems like you want what's best for her." Paxton's voice was hard, but there was an underlying emotion in it Matt couldn't identify. "Before I told her to leave, she trapped herself in this town trying to help me and refused to get out until I made her. If she starts helping, she'll just end up giving us everything she has because she's too stupid to take care of herself. Yes, we're in trouble, but Kevin and I will handle it." He slid back under the car.

"But I'm here now," Matt found himself saying suddenly. "Karen and I are together, we support each other. I'll be there to help her, make sure she's only helping you and Kevin as much as she can. Please just think about it." The words _Karen and I are together_ made him feel some undefinable emotion, even though it was a lie. Matt took off his glasses, willing Paxton to see the sincere side of his words. Even if he and Karen weren't a couple, he still wanted to be her friend and check in on her as much as he could.

Paxton sighed again and put down his tools. "If you're there to look after her," he amended, "I guess I can give it some more thought."

"Thank you, sir." He turned to leave.

"Kid," Paxton called sharply from under the car, "I will think about it, _only_ if you never call me 'sir' again."

"You got it," Matt replied with a grin, and went back to the house to spend some more time with Karen and her brother.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Matt offered to take the couch downstairs for the night, but Karen wasn't having that. "You're a guest, Matt. You're already here out of the goodness of your heart, and you think I'm gonna let you sleep on the couch? Not a damn chance."

The two of them ended up agreeing to share the bed after a long debate. It wasn't huge, but it was large enough that they could both have their own space without really having to touch, as long as nobody shifted around too much. Karen was a little nervous about it, but she found that she trusted Matt not to try anything. The night passed without incident, and Karen woke up at about ten in the morning.

For a minute she didn't remember where she was. Her nose was shoved into a warm, breathing, cloth-covered surface, which admittedly smelled really nice. She extricated herself from the tangle of limbs around her to blink at the ceiling, before everything came rushing back and she blushed. Apparently she and Matt had ended up cuddling overnight by accident. So much for keeping their personal space. Matt didn't seem to be awake yet, though, so she took a minute to study him.

It still felt unbelievable that she was really home, that he was really here with her. Even more unbelievable was the fake relationship thing. It almost seemed more likely that they really were in love, that she'd somehow been brainwashed or lost her memory or something and forgotten that they were just coming home for the holidays because they loved each other and he wanted to meet her family. Everything was so easy with Matt, it was absurd. Even without his sight, he seemed able to read her effortlessly. He was always so earnest, so concerned about her feelings and so caring that it was not hard at all to believe that he loved her. Yet she had no way of knowing how much of that was real, or how much went beyond the platonic. She was grateful to him for offering to help her out by pretending to be her boyfriend, but she was also bizarrely and irrationally frustrated that he hadn't just asked her out instead. She felt curiously attached to him already, but she didn't know whether that was because she really cared about Matt or because she was just overly invested in the fantasy they were projecting for her dad and Kevin. Karen was just confused.

Deciding to let Matt sleep, she levered herself out of bed, got dressed and went downstairs. Kevin and Dad would probably be at the diner until early afternoon, as Penny's Place usually stayed open on Christmas until after lunch before closing early.

She made herself some eggs and sat down at the table to eat, enjoying the quiet and the familiar ambiance of the house. She'd felt trapped in Fagan Corners as an adolescent, but now that she was coming back as an adult it was easier to enjoy the simplicity of her childhood home, even if it was run-down.

After finishing her breakfast, Karen decided to check in on Matt again and see if he was awake and if he wanted anything to eat. She went back up the stairs, but when she reached the door to their room she noticed something odd. There was a note taped to the door that she hadn't seen on her way out, written in her dad's stiff, blocky longhand.

_Karen_, it read,

_You are right that kevin and I need help. It was not fair to tell you not to help since we are a Family which Kevin reminded me this morning. Help as much as you want just make sure you keep Matt around. He promised he wouldn't let you starve trying to get us out of debt so as long as you aren't stupid and you keep your job I am fine with you sending us money or whatever you want to do. Bring him home for christmas next year too._

_You are still asleep now so I will see you when I get home_

_Dad_

_P.S. MATT IS A KEEPER. Merry Christmas loser I love you. Love, Kevin._

Karen took it off the door and read it over again. By the fourth read-through her eyes were so blurry with tears that she couldn't really make out the words anymore. Finally, _finally_…

The door opened. "Karen?" said Matt, sounding worried. "I heard sniffling. Is that you?"

She gave a watery laugh. "Yeah, it's me." She waved the note at him. "I got a note from my dad. He says I can help out as much as I want. And I can come home for Christmas next year too." Her face was starting to hurt from smiling. "I can't believe it. He really changed his mind!" She scanned the note again and her face fell a little. "Well, he did say I should bring you back for Christmas, but I – "

Matt suddenly leaned forward and kissed her, very carefully, once, then again. "I'll come if you'll have me," he said, and _god_ his smile was so cute.

"I have egg breath," said Karen blankly. "Um, what?"

He paused, grinning at her. "Are the eggs occluding your neural pathways?"

"Shut up. Are you serious? You want to, um… We can do this for real?" This had to be some sort of miracle. A stupid, sappy Christmas miracle out of a movie. In thirty seconds she was going to wake up and none of it was going to be real. But a deeper part of her knew that no matter how strange and crazy and unlikely it was, something about this had staying power. It was a beautiful feeling.

For answer, Matt kissed her again, egg breath and all. "Merry Christmas, Karen."


End file.
